Giving the young man his own pair of pistols to put in his sash, Phillips took his personal long rifle with him. Knowing he looked incongruous with the frontier weapon while wearing his Royal Navy uniform with the gold buttons and lace, he felt no one could later plead they were entrapped, and had not known they were dealing with a naval officer. The men were pulled ashore in the gig, and they set out to find the inn. They arrived early, and had time to quaff some excellent ale before a middle-aged fellow of ample girth approached.
He had been sitting at a bench in the back of the room with some other men who appeared to be woodsmen. Two of them also had long rifles, and all wore long-bladed knives on their belts. One stopped in front of their bench and asked Phillips how he liked the rifle. Phillips assured the fellow it was a fine shooting weapon and he was pleased he had bought it.
Holding out his hand, the man identified himself as Seth Harkins and replied, “You know, I stopped by Campbell’s place many a time and looked at that very same rifle. I would have bought it, but where would I have found caps for it down in the States?”
Without commenting on the weapon, Phillips identified himself and Watkins, explaining they were both of the Royal Navy.
“That’s what I am told”, remarked Harkins. “I hear tell you are looking to buy naval stores and don’t mind where they come from?”
“That is about it, Mister Harkins. I can assure you I can furnish licenses to any merchant captain who wishes to carry such material that will get him by past the blockade.”
“Well Navy, seems I have heard such before. A ship brings her cargo to Halifax, then just off-shore, one of your cruisers stops the ship and presses half her hands.”
Phillips nodded. “I know such things have occurred. That is one of the reasons your country has declared war on us. Would you happen to know who the First Lord of our Admiralty might be?”
“Don’t follow politics much, Captain. Especially foreign politics.”
“Well, Lord Melville is our First Lord, and takes a dim view of such actions. I have a letter from him, which you are welcome to read, promising court martial to any Royal Navy officer who might wish to dishonor our Ensign by doing the same again.”
Just what would you like me to bring up from the States, anyway?”
“Just about anything in the ship-building line, Mister Harkins. Timber suitable for masts and spars, pitch, tar, sawn timber, sailcloth and the like. We would pay in hard specie for such to be delivered here, or if your ship-masters would make the crossing, any British port.”
“You say you’ll give a license to any master that will get him past the blockade?”
“As long as she carries her cargo to a British port. Of course, if that master would then go to a French port and return to America with contraband cargo, then his ship and cargo would be forfeit if caught.”
“I get the idea, Captain. Maybe we can do business. Tell you what, we’ll go to Jack Devons who runs the ship chandler’s business here. You give him your note of hand for say, five hundred pounds. I’ll go on my way and try to arrange shipment of that amount of naval stores from a New England port. If it makes it here, Devons can pay me and we will be square. I will need some of those licenses you told me about. If your navy takes the ship and cargo, while attempting delivery, then I will still ask Devons to pay me, but you will never see another stick of New England timber.”
To seal the transaction, Phillips bought another pail of beer to quench the thirst of Harkins and his party, then all went out back where the men with rifles showed off their prowess. Phillips was not up to the standard of the frontiersmen, but was still able to put all of his balls into a stump a good twenty rods away.
On the way back to the frigate, Phillips had his boat take him to the flagship and arrange for a half dozen licenses. Admiral Warren was most emphatic over their use.
“See here, Captain. If one of those Yankee ships comes into the hands of one of my frigate captains, I will insist the ship be searched thoroughly. If she should be carrying contraband destined for Boney, the ship and cargo will be seized, no matter how many licenses she may have. Make sure your Yankee friends understand that!”
CHAPTER SIX
Harkins came out to the frigate one evening and collected his licenses, then was off, in a fair-sized ketch-rigged fishing smack. Phillips then concentrated his energies in procuring local timber. He found a source of spruce timber suitable for masts and spars and arranged to have some shipped back home. There was a shortage of the ships needed to carry such a specialized cargo, but some spars could be carried as deck cargo aboard normal merchant craft.
Having accomplished everything he felt he could do here, he decided to make an exploratory voyage down the coast. He had been advised to seek a source of pine tar while on this mission, and that was to be had in the southern United States.
Leaving Halifax with permission from Admiral Warren, he wished he could have taken the prize schooner with them, but she was already in the hands of the prize court proceedings. At any rate, he had that craft’s prize crew back aboard Amazon. To get away from the northerly moving Gulf current, they sailed west until away from its grasp then turned south.
This far from the normal shipping lanes they saw no sign of friend or foe. When the ship reached 31˚ north latitude, she turned west, approaching the coast. Here, she saw numerous shipping of various types, mostly of small coastal types. All fled from her upon sight, but Phillips did not pursue any of them. His mission here was to gather intelligence, not to line his pockets with prize money. Off the coast, he encountered one of the blockading frigates and they exchanged signals. Invited aboard HMS Aquilon, he spent a pleasant afternoon with Captain Randolph, who had some excellent Bordeaux he had taken from a prize. He showed Randolph his orders and explained what he was trying to do with the licenses he had given to the Americans.
The dubious Randolph wondered if the Yankee captains would use the papers to get out of port, then go sailing merrily over to France to peddle their wares to the enemy. Phillips explained matters as well as he was able and mentioned the necessity of securing supplies of ship-building materials from a source other than the Baltic. He assured Randolph any Yankee trader caught violating the terms of the license would have his ship and cargo seized. He wondered if Randolph would have any knowledge of critical materials that might be available in these parts.
“Well, they have a type of oak down here that makes wonderful framing and knees for shipbuilding. They call it live oak. And, every little hamlet has someone that collects pine pitch. If it were my task, I think I’d try to find a local pilot who could take me to some little port where I could try to buy what I wanted.”
Leaving Aquilon behind, Amazon began her voyage up the coast, craft of all sorts fleeing when they sighted her. This close to shore, with the lack of accurate charts, these vessels were not easily pursued, since they could slip into any number of little inlets. Continuing northerly, they encountered a storm system that lashed them all night with violent winds and high seas. Clawing their way out to sea, the ship weathered the storm with no damage. Next morning, as soon as the lookouts went aloft, a wreck was spotted off their port beam. An elderly schooner had lost much of her canvas during the blow, and was lying dead in the water with an alarming list, her lee gunnel underwater.
Amazon came up beside her and backed her topsail, before putting a boat in the water. Mister Robins went over with a party of seamen and a good bosun’s mate. On his return later in the watch, he reported the schooner had lost her canvas during the blow, and lying broadside to the waves had nearly capsized. Her cargo had shifted, and if the storm had not blown itself out then, they would surely have gone down. As it was, with her canvas gone, the schooner’s master did not know how he was to get back to port.
Phillips ordered Mister Anderson to pass a tow to the schooner then asked Mister Watkins to go over to the schooner and invite its master aboard.
With the schooner towing at the end of a good
cable, a bewhiskered elderly gentleman was welcomed aboard with due courtesy. Looking about with curiosity, he said, “I never thought I’d get this sort of welcome from a King’s ship!”
Phillips invited the merchant captain to his quarters and offered him a drink and a cigar. After exchanging names, he assured Captain Peabody he had no intention of harming him, his ship or his crew.
“Captain Peabody, in my opinion our countries are at war because of a series of mistakes on both sides, as well, I admit, because of arrogance of some of my fellow Royal Navy ship captains. I wish I could assure you I consider my enemy to be Napoleon Bonaparte of France. I would be delighted to have this war with America settled immediately with no dishonor to either side. Unfortunately, I am not in a position to alter my courses here.”
“My purpose for being in these waters is to purchase naval stores which would be used against Britain’s main enemy. We need timber, pitch, tar, and the like. My government is willing to pay well for such material. Now, I am not going to take your craft as a prize. My men are now aboard her attempting to get her seaworthy again.”
We have some old canvas that my sailmaker will attempt to fit to your rigging. My sailing master will try to re-stow your hold so you may get rid of that list. I am not requiring you to do anything for me, but I will ask you if you can direct me to a small, undefended port, where I can purchase with hard specie such materials, as I need. I would also ask the favor of your permitting my sailing master to copy some of your charts. My own are sadly deficient.”
Peabody looked at him with suspicion. “You are not going to take my ship?”
Phillips assured him that was not to happen.
Peabody said, “You say you want naval stores. As it happens, my cargo is barrels of pitch that I was taking up to Norfolk to sell. Maybe we could agree on a price.”
After some discussion with the bosun on the proper price to pay for pitch and inspecting one of the barrels that had been swayed aboard, they settled on a price. There was just room aboard to take on the cargo, although the hold was now jammed tight. The schooner was alarmingly light now that she had ridden herself of her load. Amazon’s cooper furnished the Yankee schooner some old barrels, broken down, which the Americans could put back into service and fill with seawater to furnish some ballast.
Before they parted, Phillips wondered. “Mister Peabody, when I was a lad, my father had a seaman on his ship named Peabody. I am curious if you might be a relation?”
“Lord, sir, my pa had a whole slew of brothers. He came to America when he was fourteen and never saw any of them again. I suppose your Peabody could be an uncle or maybe a cousin. I do not know about any of them.”
The bemused Yankee said his goodbyes and again thanked Phillips. Prepared, Phillips handed Peabody several of the licenses and explained their use. He assured the man if he or any other ship-owner would put to sea with the type of cargo needed, the license would get him past the British blockade. Shipment could go to Halifax or across the Atlantic to any British port unimpeded.
Peabody examined the document closely. “I’ve got an interest in an old brig back home. She hasn’t been to sea since this war started. If I use the money you paid me to get her seaworthy and fill her with sawn lumber, do you reckon your people will give me a good price for it?”
“As long as it met the specifications of what is usually called for in the shipbuilding trade. We also need more tar, hemp, masts and spars and the like. Just remember not to be caught trading with our enemy, France.”
Phillips had intended to take the ship into several of the small ports along the coast, but since filling the frigate with the barrels of pitch, there was no room for more material. He did think it might be worthwhile to visit a small inlet Peabody had told him about, but he had been warned it would be questionable to get the frigate in, especially at low tide. He did think it might be worth his while to investigate in case he wished to come back to this area on a future visit.
Sailing up the coast until reaching the inlet, he decided to leave the frigate in the hands of his first officer and go ashore by boat to make a personal reconnaissance.
Out of sight of land, one of the boats from the last prize was put over the side with a twelve-pounder carronade in its bow. The oarsmen carried pistols and cutlasses and the Marines aboard were told to leave their uniforms on the ship. Clad in ordinary ship’s slops, they appeared as ordinary seamen, although they did carry their muskets and accoutrements.
Phillips settled himself in the stern with Mister Watkins at the rudder and the lug sail set. Soon they were by themselves, with the Amazon out of sight. Course had deliberately set to bring them within sight of land to the south of their destination, a small river running into the sea which had carved out a small inlet. Once in sight of land, it was necessary to alter course to starboard. An island and sandbar off the mouth protected a tiny bay from most storms. A hamlet of a dozen homes occupied some higher ground to the rear of the bay and the whole reason for its existence appeared to be the fertile farmland and a water powered sawmill upstream from the village.
Closing the shore, Phillips ordered the boat anchor deployed as soon as the craft touched bottom. Most of the crew got out, and went ashore, leaving a few men to man the carronade. With the launch nearly empty, she floated freely again. Wading ashore, Phillips and his men were met by an elderly man armed with an ancient musket. A cursory glance at it revealed the lack of a flint in its lock, and therefore unable to fire. More men and a few women came streaming from the building, and it was apparent that some of them did present a threat.
A burly man with an axe approached and asked their business. Phillips assured him they meant no harm but wished to find if there were any supplies of sawn timber that might be available for purchase.
The man grounded his axe and wondered if they might be British. Phillips admitted that to be the case and was told a man had already been sent off to summon the militia.
Phillips gave the man his name and said he was the captain of a ship cruising off-shore. He did not mention he was of the Royal Navy and was wearing an old blue coat without any of the gold lace that had once decorated it. He was dressed much as any merchant ship captain might be.
“Mister”, he stated. “We are not here to stir up any trouble. We are looking for a future cargo which we are prepared to pay for. Our ship is loaded now, but we can come back later if it might be profitable. If you have anything in the way of naval stores you want to sell or trade, I’d like to talk about it. If you do not, we will be on our way. If we meet trouble, we are prepared to defend ourselves. You see the gun in our boat, and we all have our own weapons.”
After more discussion, the men decided to sit down and discuss the situation. Everyone adjourned to the porch of a nearby house where a stoneware jug of potent spirits appeared. Phillips wondered when the militia unit might arrive. Abel Maxwell, as the man with the axe identified himself, assured him they would probably not arrive until tomorrow. Going over to his men, he explained what was going on to the Royal Marine sergeant and asked him to post sentries to watch for any threats.
Explaining to Maxwell what he had done, he explained they would shortly finish their mission and hoped to leave peacefully. If there were any threat to them though, blood could be spilled.
Maxwell, with several villagers standing beside, wondered exactly what kind of products were desired. Phillips told him shipbuilding timber of all sorts was especially welcome. After downing another drink, Maxwell led the party to a pile of lumber beside the river. Plainly, the wood had been here for some time since the sawn surfaces were now grey with age. There was a framework over the storage pile giving some small protection from the weather.
Phillips noticed one area of the yard where large piles of awkward baulks were stored. These were sections sawn from natural bends and curves in the parent trees. They would be valuable for those parts of a ship where the natural curves in the wood would make a better product.
Ma
xwell explained this wood had been cut before the war. Early on, after a roving member of the blockading fleet had snapped up the brig used to deliver their lumber to market, their livelihood ended.
Captain Phillips produced a copy of the license for the transport of goods to British ports and explained its contents to the villagers. Maxwell looked at the paper dubiously. “You’re saying if we load our timber on a ship and it sails with this license, the British won’t bother it?”
“As long as you take it to a British port. If you try to take it to an enemy port and are discovered, you will lose both the ship and cargo. Now, your ship will be subject to inspection by any British warship you may encounter. You must stop for the inspection.”
“That’s all well and good Phillips, but I hear the navy will press most of the crew into their own ships. How do we get our cargo to market with no crew?”
Phillips explained. “Admiral Warren has ordered all Royal Navy warships to honor the terms of this license. Any ship captain caught violating the terms will be brought before a court martial and would be subject to heavy penalties.”
The sun was getting low over the water when the Marine sergeant approached and quietly informed his captain that a body of men were approaching from the south.
He informed Maxwell they would be leaving and to keep the license in case they wished to trade. He informed the man the village’s timber products would be gladly purchased in Halifax or indeed any British port.
The seamen were already at the boat, but the Marines guarding the approaches to the town had to come across the fields to the landing.
The Marine sergeant insisted in doing the evacuation in an orderly manner, and by the time everyone was loaded, the militia unit was on the edge of town with a four-pounder gun drawn by a span of oxen. The unit deployed and fired off a volley. Phillips was not worried about that since they were well out of musket range, but when the gun was unlimbered, that was a different story. The loaded boat grounded on the bottom and men had to be unloaded to free her.
Ships of Oak, Men of Iron: A Tim Phillips Novel (War at Sea Book 10) Page 4